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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24132961">What Happened Yesterday?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovethistoomuch/pseuds/Lovethistoomuch'>Lovethistoomuch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>House M.D.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Episode: s05e22 House Divided, First Kiss, M/M, Romance, Sharing a Bed, dubious consent due to alcohol use</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:06:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24132961</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovethistoomuch/pseuds/Lovethistoomuch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set during the episode 22 of Season 5, House throws the bachelor party for Chase but cannot really concentrate on partying. When he decides to go to sleep, a very drunk Wilson climbs into his bed.</p><p>There is no allergy drama and no hallucinations, just the normal complications of being a little bit too drunk...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Greg House/James Wilson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>House knew it was a great idea to invite Karamel! As soon as he sees her, Wilson is sucked into the party, unable to complain any longer. Good!</p>
<p>It's a good party. It really is! But, for some reason, House cannot get into it. Soon, he is standing at the side, watching his colleagues and friends (or friend) enjoying themselves and getting progressively more hammered. How Wilson has managed to loose his pants is beyond House. He went to the bathroom and as he returns, Wilson is pants-less and preparing to do a body shot off off Karamel.</p>
<p>House watches as Wilson gets down on his knees and traces the thin line of salt that was put on the stripper's body with his tongue, licking up her belly to her breasts where the shot glass is placed. Everybody cheers as Wilson takes the glass into his mouth without using his hands and throws back his head to let the alcohol run down his throat.</p>
<p>House doesn't cheer. His eyes are fixed on Wilson's face as Karamel takes the shot glass and Wilson leans in, opening his mouth in a motion that could lead to a very passionate, sloppy, drunk kiss. House's jaw tightens. Of course, it is only to take the slice of lemon out of Karamel's mouth, but he can't help but stare at Wilson's lips: the way they are opened, the expression of passion on Wilson's face and also unconcealed lust. Why does his friend have to be such a slut when he is drunk?</p>
<p>Wilson bites on the lemon and immediately retracts his head away from the stripper, biting on the slice properly but House can't help but notice how Wilson's lower lip brushed against Karamel's, only for a split second. Everybody keeps cheering as Wilson raises his hands triumphantly, the lemon slice falling to the ground. He is incredibly drunk, and he looks incredibly happy.</p>
<p>House can't watch this anymore. Why does he do this to himself? He had known that inviting Karamel would mean, that he was guaranteed to see this side of Wilson again, that's why he has invited her, after all. But as much as he enjoys watching his friend unhinged, the regret and sadness creeps up at him eventually. He has to get out of here. Now.</p>
<p>For the fraction of a second, he considers driving home, but he has had a few drinks himself and even though he doesn't feel drunk, he certainly shouldn't drive. That must have been the reason why he decided to enter Wilson's bedroom. Certainly, his friend wouldn't use it tonight and just pass out somewhere in his flat.</p>
<p>It's a nice bedroom with a king-sized bed and a small lamp on the nightstand. House switches it on and closes the door behind him. Sitting down on the bed, he leans his cane against the wall and takes off his shirt and socks. Then, he climbs under the covers.</p>
<p>They are warm and cosy, and they smell like Wilson. House closes his eyes. He relaxes, breathing in deeply, familiarity and warmth surrounding him from all sides. This is pathetic! He knows that, but he actually feels at home and more relaxed than he has ever felt in his own bed. God, he is such a sap! Such an idiot! He nestles his head deeper into the pillow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>House has probably fallen asleep but he is awoken by the sound of an opening door and a stream of light that falls into the room. He blinks but even though his eyes are not yet adjusted to the new light-source, he recognizes the silhouette immediately: Square shoulders, a little bit hunched, stocky but still lean, feet always apart in a wide stance that, in this case is a bit unsteady.</p>
<p>The door is being closed and House's eyes go blind again, not accustomed to the darkness anymore. He hears the shuffling of feet that are not quite lifted off the ground properly and soon enough feels a weight on the mattress. Should he say something? Alert to his presence? House closes his eyes and pretends to be asleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The blanket is lifted at the other side of the bed and, soon enough, House feels the mattress shift at the new weight. There is a bit of shuffling that, for some reason, gets closer and then, suddenly there is a warmth against his back and an arm draped across his torso. Wilson is pressing himself against him, pulling him in with his left arm. He can feel Wilson's hot breath on his neck, the brush of the tip of a nose, and then a soft, careful kiss pressed to his skin, behind his ear. “You still awake, sweety?”, Wilson mumbles.</p>
<p>House should have frozen, his body gone stiff but instead, he further relaxes. He has to say something, he knows that.</p>
<p>“Well...”, he draws out the word, still a bit sleepy: “I think I am not who you expected in here...”</p>
<p>He feels Wilson freeze, can almost feel his confused puppy look, even though he cannot see him.</p>
<p>“House?”, Wilson sounds curious, surprised. He lets go and the heat is gone.</p>
<p>House turns around with a bit of an effort and is immediately overwhelmed. Now that his eyes have readjusted themselves to the darkness again, he can see Wilson's face quite clearly. It also helps his vision that Wilson is very close. Too close. He barely put any distance between them and is still propped up on his right elbow, slightly hovering over the cushion, looking down at House with eyes that seem black in this light, soft. Wilson blinks once, heavily. He is probably well beyond hammered right now.</p>
<p>“Why didn'you stop me?”, Wilson murmurs, slurring the words so that they melt together. His eyebrows contort in a sceptical facial expression that is way too serious.</p>
<p>“I did”, House counters: “Just now.”</p>
<p>Wilson shakes his head. “No, no”, he mumbles: “Could'ave stopped me sooner. You...” He blinks heavily again, as if he is blinking with his whole face, not just his eyes. Then his head suddenly shoots forwards and House braces himself for the impact, thinking that Wilson has lost control of his balance and is falling down on him.</p>
<p>As it turns out, he is not falling. His body comes down on House's, yes, but it's only a bit of a crash, still softened by Wilson holding himself up on his right elbow. His left hand grabs House's face and for a split second, there is the same expression, House has seen earlier, as Wilson dives in for a deep, open mouthed kiss.</p>
<p>It's hot and wet and sloppy. His breath smells like Tequila and he also tastes like it. Tequila and salt. But that's not all, of course. He also tastes warm and good and comforting. House's brain isn't fast enough to respond to any of this. His body, though, doesn't have the same problem. Instinctively, he opens his mouth wider, let's Wilson in, a deep sound escaping his lips as Wilson shoves his own body up a bit, causing friction everywhere.</p>
<p>There isn't an ounce of air between them, as Wilson is pressing against him, the left half of his body lying on House completely, weighing him down, fixing him to the mattress. In his wasted state, all of his inhibitions are gone and Wilson moans, totally unashamed and lets out small, deep noises that he has to stop immediately, or House will go crazy! Even drunk, Wilson is an incredible kisser, or maybe it is <em>because</em> he is drunk, not thinking about anything, just doing it. Doing what he wants, what feels good and right.</p>
<p>Suddenly, Houses brain catches up with what is happening.</p>
<p>He detaches himself from Wilson who lets out a dissatisfied groan. “Stop!”, House says, breathing hard. Wilson's face is still only inches away. He can feel the weight of his body, the heat radiating off off it. Wilson's eyes are dark, his gaze a bit fuzzy but still full of want. “You are drunk. You don't know what you're doing”, House continues.</p>
<p>There is a mischievous smile that creeps up the corner of Wilson's mouth, his gaze steadies. “Oh, I know what I'm doing”, he says in a low whisper that is absolutely hot: “Don't worry!” He has a predatory look in his eyes, as he leans down again, pressing their lips together, grinding his body against House's, trying to climb on top of him.</p>
<p>Oh God! House closes his eyes, cursing himself in his mind, cursing Wilson and his sluttiness and his movements that seem to be exactly what his body wants but cannot have, not like this! House grabs him by the shoulder, shoving at him to get him off and break the kiss. Wilson stumbles a bit but doesn't move. He stares at House, confused and hurt. “What's it? Don't you like this?”, he asks.</p>
<p>What a stupid question!</p>
<p>“I do”, House confesses. Denying it would be silly at this point. He is panting and his body is clearly reacting. “But I can't. I can't do this. You're drunk and not yourself.”</p>
<p>Wilson studies his face, but not in that intelligent way, he sometimes does, when he tries to gaze behind House's facade. More like House is a maths equation that isn't very difficult but he doesn't understand it regardless.</p>
<p>“I am myself”, he mumbles: “Who else would I be?” And with that, he leans down and kisses him again, slowly and more deliberately.</p>
<p>“Wilson...”, House manages to say But the other man doesn't stop. He kisses his way up to House's ear.</p>
<p>“You like this?”, he whispers in a low voice. His breath hot, his left hand brushing against House's naked chest.</p>
<p>“Yes”, House hears himself say.</p>
<p>“Then shut up!”</p>
<p>As Wilson shoves his hand into House's pants, the last bit of his resistance starts to crumble.</p>
<p>“Oh God!”, he moans, and he can feel Wilson smile as he kisses him on the lips again, presses against his body, his left leg between House's thighs. Wilson is much heavier than all the women House has been with and he can feel that now, as the other man is moving slowly, his bodyweight pressing House down, warm and comfortable.</p>
<p>Suddenly, Wilson stops.</p>
<p>“Shit!”, he whispers. His voice is rough and breathless. He removes his hand from House's pants and House winces a bit as the waistband snaps back at the sudden movement. Wilson doesn't seem to notice. He buries his head in House's shoulder, nestling in, his nose brushing the skin right where the hair starts behind the ear.</p>
<p>“I'm sorry...”, Wilson mumbles. Suddenly, he becomes a lot heavier when his body relaxes right on top of House. Fortunately, it is still only the left half that is lying on the other man fully. “I can't... 'm too drunk. I can't get it up.”</p>
<p>Somehow, House is relieved. He lets out a deep breath. “Don't worry. It's alright”, he says.</p>
<p>He can feel Wilson shift as if he is trying to move even closer, bury his face even deeper. There is the soft brush of lips against his neck again.</p>
<p>“It's not you”, Wilson mumbles, his voice heavy: “You're very hot!”</p>
<p>House lets out a snort but Wilson doesn't react. He is breathing slow and deep.</p>
<p>“Wilson?”, House says after a moment but there is no answer.</p>
<p>Wilson is asleep.</p>
<p>House sighs again and closes his eyes. There is not much that he can do right now. Getting up and out of the bed is not really an option with his bad leg and Wilson draped all over him.</p>
<p>It is actually quite nice: The warmth and the weight pressing down on him, the smell amplified by the fact that Wilson is so very close now. All House has to do is turn his head and he would get Wilson's hair in his nose. And also, maybe, could press a kiss on Wilson's head.</p>
<p>He should stand up, probably. Sleeping like this cannot be good for him. He has to stand up any minute now. Any minute. Now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wilson wakes up with an ache. To say it is only a headache would downplay it significantly. He can't open his eyes, the light is too bright. All he can do is lie there and try to remember what happened last night. How did he get into bed?</p>
<p>He rolls from his stomach to his back, shielding his eyes with his left arm. His mouth is completely dry and there is a bitter taste on his tongue. He drank some tequila, that, he remembers.</p>
<p>Slowly, to keep his head from spinning too much, he sits up, his back propped against the headrest. Even that small bit of motion seems to disagree with his stomach, so he throws his head back and takes a few deep breaths.</p>
<p>After a while, he feels steady enough, to move again. Carefully, he crawls towards the edge of the bed and puts his feet on the ground. It takes another agonizing moment before he can bring himself to stand up. That is the moment when he takes a look at his clothes. He is wearing his formal, white shirt but no pants. Great!</p>
<p>Slowly, he shuffles towards the door and opens it. Wilson freezes. There are noises in his kitchen. That can only be one person!</p>
<p>“House”, Wilson mumbles as he enters the kitchen. His feet are heavy, his head is spinning and he feels like throwing up.</p>
<p>“Morning sunshine!”, House greets him with a bright smile: “As a thanks for offering your flat to throw the party, I am making you breakfast.”</p>
<p>“Well, that was indeed very nice of me...”, Wilson says in a dry tone, sitting down at the kitchen table: “Please tell me that that's a hangover cure you got there?”</p>
<p>“It is!”, House confirms: “I got bacon and peanuts and baguette with cheese. Also, because I knew that you have absolutely no self-control, I brought a bag of good old Sodium Chloride.”</p>
<p>Wilson closes his eyes and groans. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his index finger and his thumb. “This is exactly why I didn't want to come to your stupid party!”, he states.</p>
<p>House takes his cane and limps over to him, putting a plate full of food on the table in front of Wilson. Without asking for much permission, he takes Wilson's right arm and prepares the infusion so that he can eat with his left.</p>
<p>House's fingers brush over Wilson's arm in a few professional motions. It's nothing special but suddenly, something in Wilson's brain begins to stir. “Did something happen last night?”, he asks.</p>
<p>House shoots him a look. “Like what?”</p>
<p>“I don't know...” Wilson rubs at his face with his left hand.</p>
<p>“Well, you were completely shitfaced”, House observes: “You took body-shots off off Karamell and ran around without pants. You danced quite a lot...”</p>
<p>Wilson lets out a pained sound. There's something else... He knows it! Something, he cannot remember. It is as if his brain is shouting at him through a megaphone but all he can hear is noise. It is pressing, trying to reach his consciousness, but failing horribly. “Do you think I should quit and move or will quitting be enough?”, he asks.</p>
<p>House steals a piece of bacon from his plate and makes a thinking face. “I would also consider plastic surgery”, he says: “It's a win win, really. They can finally reduce the size of your nose.”</p>
<p>“Yes, because I'm Jewish... very funny!”</p>
<p>“Also, because you have a large nose.”</p>
<p>After he has finished eating, Wilson feels a lot better. Of course, House has neither cleaned the kitchen nor the living room but at least Wilson's furniture is back. Albeit in the wrong places.</p>
<p>“Right, I'ma head home”, House announces: “Take a shower and all that. See you at work.” And with that, he leaves. Wilson stares after him, the screaming at the back of his head still there.</p>
<p><em>What happened yesterday?</em> He thinks. Well, maybe he will remember later...</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A big thank you goes to the wonderful <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccroV/pseuds/AccroV">AccroV</a> for proofreading this story and always making me laugh with their comments!<br/><br/>This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I got motivated to post it after getting some comments on my other House/Wilson stories. Though I got the story lined out in my head, it will probably be a bit till I finish it. Sorry for that and I hope, you like it so far!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>At Wilson's flat, House had played it cool but as soon as he arrives at home, the panic hits him hard. Well, first things first: he needs a shower! While the warm water runs down his body, he tries to think. What should he do? Or more importantly, what is the right thing to do?</p>
<p>This is not really his area. Normally, Wilson gives him advice. Well, he not so much gives it to him but rather shoves it directly into his face. Now, talking to him is not really an option. Unless...</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>He barges into Wilson's office pretty much as he usually does. The Oncologist sits at his desk, looking through some files. When the door opens, his face contracts in a pained motion and House's eyes immediately register a glass of water on his friend's desk that could also be described as a vase. Normally, he would feel some sort of sympathy for him, but not now, that Wilson's drunken head had gotten House into so much trouble.</p>
<p>House smirks and as he speaks, it could also be described as shouting “How are you doing!?” Wilson winces.</p>
<p>“Just...shut the door, please”, he responds.</p>
<p>House shoots him a challenging look and lets the door fall shut with a bang that makes Wilson close his eyes even more, his face a sea of wrinkles. As he opens his eyes, he has a pained look. “What do you want?”, he asks, more obviously annoyed than usual.</p>
<p>“Oh, I just wanted to see how you're doing?”, House claims in a cheery tone: “How are you doing?”</p>
<p>Wilson sighs. “House, I have no patience for this today. I came in late, had a talk from Cuddy and apparently there is a jackhammer drilling away in my head, so if we can shorten this conversation in any way possible, I would be very happy!”</p>
<p>Seeing the look of true misery on his friend's face, House decides to drop the act and get to the point of this conversation. “I need your advice”, he admits.</p>
<p>Wilson looks him over. “Clearly you do! Well, first of all don't annoy your friend when he is hungover....No!” Wilson raises his finger and House shuts his mouth again. “Second, don't drag your friend to a party, when he clearly does not want to go!”</p>
<p>House frowns at the use of 'friend' instead of 'friends' but lets it slide. What he wants is Wilson's advice and not a bickering match. “Noted”, he says, and Wilson looks obviously surprised until he adds: “Not that I will follow any of this advice but I have noted it.”</p>
<p>Touching his forehead with his right hand while leaning down on the table a bit more, Wilson sighs. “It must be pretty bad if you actually admit you need my help. So, what is it?” In this position, he is looking up at House even more than usual, his big, brown eyes full of concern.</p>
<p>House swallows. This is the part of the conversation that he is actually nervous about. He cannot let that show!</p>
<p>“Let's suppose”, he starts, walking up and down the room: “That someone at Chase's bachelor party kissed me and that this someone cannot remember it. What should I do?”</p>
<p>He shoots a look at Wilson who, for a moment, seems to have forgotten his headache. “What?”, he asks totally flabbergasted.</p>
<p>“Exactly!”, House agrees.</p>
<p>“Who kissed you?”</p>
<p>House raises his hand to his face in a thinking gesture. “Gee, if there only was a way of me to communicate that that is an in formation I do not want to share... like using the word “someone” instead of a name....”</p>
<p>“One of the strippers?”</p>
<p>“What sense would there be in hiding that name? I bet you can't even remember a single one!”</p>
<p>“True...” Wilson Frowns. Something in his head is working overtime. Or rather trying to work despite everything. “But apart from the strippers, there were only men at that party. The only woman was...” Wilson's mouth opens in shock. “No!”, he exclaims.</p>
<p>“It wasn't Thirteen”, House intervenes.</p>
<p>“But then...”</p>
<p>“It wasn't a woman... yeah.”</p>
<p>House watches as Wilson's leans back in his chair. It is an abrupt movement but not caused by aversion. “And you...<em>like </em>this man?” Wilson's face now is a mixture of emotions. He looks confused, doubtful and hesitant at the same time, stretching out his hand in that way that he sometimes does when he is making a point about something.</p>
<p>House takes a deep breath. He looks at Wilson, at his sympathetic eyes, his fluffy, blow dried hair, his perfectly ironed shirt and the spotless, white coat that accentuates his shoulders. He notices the two lines between his eyebrows that always appear when he is concerned or frowning, his slightly larger nose and rather thin upper lip. “I do”, he says.</p>
<p>There is a bit of a silence.</p>
<p>It's Wilson who breaks it. “Wow!”</p>
<p>“I know... So, what do I do?”</p>
<p>Wilson's gaze wanders. He is thinking hard and for a moment, House is worried that he has blown it, that Wilson will remember now. “It wasn't Chase, was it?”, Wilson asks and House relaxes.</p>
<p>He tries not to let his relief show, his voice getting angry on purpose. “It doesn't matter who!”, he snaps: “I asked about the what! What should I do?”</p>
<p>Wilson is now in deep thinking mode. For a second, House isn't even sure that the other man has heard him. Then he snaps out of it, looking at House again. One of his eyebrows is raised, the other still contorted in disbelieve. It is quite a thing to behold, really. “And how repressed exactly is this person about his feelings for you?”, he asks.</p>
<p>House studies Wilson's face. “Very”, he answers.</p>
<p>Wilson shakes his head. “Well, knowing you, talking is certainly off the table. You would just say something hurtful or wrong unintentionally. Probably even make an offensive gay joke.”</p>
<p>House opens his mouth but rethinks his answer halfway through. “True”, he admits.</p>
<p>“So probably saying nothing is the right way to go. Just walk up to him and kiss him and see how he reacts. How much kissing are we talking about at the party?”</p>
<p><em>Oh, you have no idea!</em>, House thinks: “Heavy”, he answers: “Like, really heavy making out.”</p>
<p>Wilson runs his hand through his hair which makes it stick up a bit in the front. He doesn't seem to notice, and House is again shocked by how adorable this fully grown, middle aged man actually is. Said man's mind seems to be elsewhere. “I never thought...”, he lets out a short laugh: “I always thought you were straight.” He looks at House and for a moment. The diagnostician doesn't know what to say. Wilson looks hurt, as if this new information is causing him pain and House might be taken aback by that if he didn't know <em>exactly</em> <span>why</span> that is.</p>
<p>He catches himself just in time. “Really? How come?”, he counters as nonchalant as he can.</p>
<p>Wilson shrugs. “I don't know. I've just assumed it, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Well, you assumed wrong!” There is a bit of a silence. “That's it?”, House finally asks: “That's your advice?”</p>
<p>“Pretty much.”</p>
<p>“Hmmm...”</p>
<p>House probably shouldn't reveal more, shouldn't say what he says next. “What if I wanted to do something more... something <em>nicer</em>?”</p>
<p>The word feels wrong in his mouth and he can see the reaction immediately in Wilson's face. This was a mistake!</p>
<p>“Okay, is this a prank?” Wilson leans forward and points again. “I am still talking to Gregory House?”</p>
<p>“Forget it!” House starts for the door and Wilson almost leaps over his desk to stop him.</p>
<p>“No! No, wait! I'm sorry! I just...I'm not used to you speaking like this but this is good, right? You finally found someone you want to be nice to!” There it is again, that hurt undertone that tells House so much more than Wilson must realise.</p>
<p>“If you say the word nice again, I will punch you!”</p>
<p>Wilson crosses his arms in front of his chest “If you want my advice in that department, you have to tell me who it is, otherwise I cannot help you.”</p>
<p>House contemplates that for a moment. “You're probably right.” And with that, he walks towards the door again.</p>
<p>“Wait!”, Wilson stops him: “Why don't you just tell me? How bad can it be, really?” House already has his hand on the door handle. “It's nor Foreman, is it?”,</p>
<p>Wilson's concerned face makes House frown. “See you later, Wilson”, he says and leaves.</p>
<p>As soon as he is out the door, he wants to kick himself! What was he thinking? Not only did he risk the other man remembering, now Wilson also thinks that House is madly in love with someone else! The hurt in his eyes and voice had been so obvious! House grits his teeth. He has to do something quickly!</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Being who he is, House does not have much time for musing. They have a new patient and she is in bad shape. It's a ballet dancer who collapsed during the rehearsal. His team is already on the case.</p>
<p>“No tumours or punctures in the lunges no bruising, no sign of trauma no STDs”, Thirteen lists.</p>
<p>“And supplemental oxygen has only gotten her saturation level to sixty, the lungs keep collapsing despite a chest tube”, Taub chimes in.</p>
<p>Forman shrugs: “ER ruled out the obvious, white count and temp were normal so no pneumonia.”</p>
<p>There is a bit of a silence as they are all waiting for House to answer. But House does not need long to come up with something. “She's a dancer, dehydration could hide an infection. We'll treat her for the obvious. IV-fluids and antibiotics for the pneumonia.”, he says. Everybody is packing their stuff to leave but he is not finished. “Not you, Thirteen. In my office.”</p>
<p>He turns around quickly but not quick enough to miss the confused looks of not only Thirteen but Foreman and Taub as well. His only solace is, that Thirteen is an excellent liar. She enters the office behind him and House observes the other two leaving. Only when they have exited his view, he starts speaking.</p>
<p>“Yesterday, Wilson kissed me during Chase's bachelor party. Today, he can't remember it. He was very drunk. What do I do?”</p>
<p>At the initial statement, Thirteen's head jerks back and her eyes open wide. “Wow!”, she says as he has finished.</p>
<p>“Yeah...” House sits down behind his desk, rubbing his leg.</p>
<p>“How much kissing are we talking about?”</p>
<p>“A lot!”</p>
<p>“So, he is definitely interested in you?”</p>
<p>“I think grabbing my dick would suggest that, yeah.”</p>
<p>Thirteen makes an expression as if she has just heard that her parents are having sex but she does not comment.</p>
<p>“Normally I ask Wilson for advice but that was not very helpful”, House goes on to keep her thoughts on track.</p>
<p>But Thirteen seems to have a problem with that too. “Wait, you actually asked Wilson for advice on this?”, she enquires.</p>
<p>“As I said, Wasn't very helpful. He just advised me to kiss this mystery man and see where it goes but I don't want to do that. I want to do something a bit more...” Damn it, how often does he have to say that word today...</p>
<p>“Nice?”, Thirteen saves him.</p>
<p>“Yeah, that.”</p>
<p>It is quiet for a moment as thirteen seems to think.”Well, you two are practically already dating, aren't you?”, she finally starts in a tone that is left hanging in the air and waiting for a conclusion.</p>
<p>House did not expect that. He thinks about his and Wilson's fixed timetable, the lunches and movie nights, the way they plan together and all of their rituals. “Go on”, he says.</p>
<p>“Well, just dial that up a notch. Make it more romantic until he realises.”</p>
<p>“And how would I do that?”</p>
<p>Thirteen shrugs. “I don't know, I'm not a romance expert. You have dinner together all the time. Just go to a fancy restaurant.”</p>
<p>“Good point, except that we are also already doing that...”, House just realises at this moment. Have he and Wilson been dating all this time? Thinking about it, he has probably spend more time with Wilson than he usually did with his girlfriends...</p>
<p>“Then do more! Come on, make an effort, dress nicer. I'm sure you can think of something.”</p>
<p>“Right. I will.”</p>
<p>“Good!” Thirteen smiles at him and House immediately scowls. What has he gotten himself into?</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unfortunately, House did not have much time to think of anything elaborate. First, the patients skin came off, then she crashed during a biopsy so that they had to stop her heart completely to get clean pictures of it. It was only when House noticed the guilt of the boyfriend, that they could figure out that the problem was gonorrhoea with an abscess in her heart.</p>
<p>When he finally leaves the hospital with Wilson, he believes that the case is over. They had a date today. Well...They had agreed to meet after work for lunch. Thanks to House's care in the morning and his excessive water-drinking during the day, Wilson feels much better now, which is good for House to start his plan.</p>
<p>“Let's go to a restaurant”, House says in his most neutral voice: “After this day, I need something more than fast food.”</p>
<p>Wilson eyes him from the side and House wants to kick himself. Wilson knows him too well. He knows that House wants fast food <em>especially</em> after a day like this. But to his surprise, Wilson just agrees. Maybe he is just too tired for an argument. Or maybe he's just happy to spent time with House at all now that he has heard about this mysterious person the diagnostician is in love with...</p>
<p>House is wearing a shirt now that he keeps at the hospital, right next to his white coat, in case he needs to look serious for a bit he is doing. When Wilson asked him why he'd changed clothes, he had lied about one of his subordinates spilling icky stuff on him and Wilson had not questioned it. He seems to have been rather not curious today. Maybe poking his finger into one wound had quenched his urge for honesty for the day.</p>
<p>Everything is going normally. A bit too much for House's taste. When they get to the restaurant, he contemplates taking Wilson's jacket but then deems that too obvious. But isn't he already being very obvious? Apparently not, since Wilson does not seem to notice anything. They just chat like they normally do and House does not really have the nerve to try and flirt. And even if he had, Wilson would probably not notice anything unusual...</p>
<p>Suddenly, House's phone starts ringing. Wilson looks up but doesn't say anything as House answers. It is Foreman and he sounds very serious.</p>
<p>“The infections made her septic.”He says: ”We can't remove the abscess until we get her BP up and it's not responding to fluids. We were thinking about using a high dose of dopamine as a vasoconstrictor to close her blood vessels so she doesn't bleed out.”</p>
<p>House nods. “Great idea”, he answers: “call me again, if her heart explodes!” And with that, he hangs up.</p>
<p>Wilson eyes him suspiciously. “Sounded important. Do you need to go back to the hospital?”, he asks.</p>
<p>House shakes his head. “Nah, they can handle themselves. No need for me to stand there and look over their shoulders, or in Taub's case, their heads.”</p>
<p>“You sure? I can get the bill, no problem.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I'm sure!”, House says, maybe a bit too harshly because Wilson raises his hands in a defensive gesture in response.</p>
<p>“If you say so...”</p>
<p>It takes a moment until they find their rhythm again. Maybe House has given Wilson too little credit. Maybe he has noticed more than the led on.</p>
<p>Just as House feels himself relax again, his phone rings for a second time. It is Foreman again and his restrained tone almost screams danger.</p>
<p>“The dopamine caused the blood-vessels in her hands and feet to clamp shut.” he says: “We need to amputate, or the gangrene will spread.” House is silent. He did not expect that. It's a pretty big shock for a ballet dancer and such a young one as well. Foreman seems to take his silence as an invitation. “We thought about using vaso-dilaters to open the vessels again”, he offers.</p>
<p>House thinks. “Who's idea was that?”, he asks.</p>
<p>“Taub” He can hear the aversion in Foreman's voice</p>
<p>“Do it.” House says without hesitation</p>
<p>“If she clots, she's dead.”</p>
<p>“I said, do it.” He repeats and shuts the phone. As he looks up, he realises Wilson is staring at him.</p>
<p>“Okay, what's happening? Am I dying?” Despite his wording, Wilson sounds serious.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“I don't know. You drag me to a restaurant even though we wanted to spend the evening eating Chinese food on the couch, you're wearing a shirt an you're ignoring your team even though it seems important. What is going on?”</p>
<p>This is a success, House thinks, because Wilson has clearly noticed, that he has made an effort. But what does he do now? This is the part of the plan, he had not figured out. Also, Wilson thinking something is seriously wrong is not the vibe he was going for.</p>
<p>“You're paranoid! And my team can handle it. What should I do? Stand there and worry? Not really my style is it?” But he is worried, no matter if he wants to admit it and Wilson can tell. Wilson can always tell. “It's the patient”, House finally says in the hopes of shutting Wilson up: “They have to amputate her hands and Feet, at least that's what they told me the first time.”</p>
<p>“Wow!”, Wilson's eyes widen: “That is hard! I...I'm so sorry!”</p>
<p>“Well, thank you! I cannot imagine my life without her hands and feet.” Wilson frowns. “They're going to try a risqué procedure. It could save her limbs but also kill her.” Wilson nods. Apparently, getting his mind off that case seems to be sufficient explanation for House's 'weird' behaviour.</p>
<p>“Well, they're the best. That's why you picked them.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, totally. Their looks had nothing to do with it.”</p>
<p>“It is Foreman, isn't it?” Wilson's voice is a weird mixture of curiosity, anger and disbelieve.</p>
<p>“Oh, leave me alone!”</p>
<p>He gets the phone-call soon after. The patient is fine, the procedure had worked. “Well done!” is all he says before he hangs up. House relaxes. He leans back in his chair and takes a deep breath. Suddenly, he feels Wilson's fond look poke him in the eye.</p>
<p>“What?”, he asks.</p>
<p>“One day I'm gonna tell them and then their little world is gonna shatter.” Wilson says.</p>
<p>House shoulders tense. “Tell them what?”</p>
<p>“That you actually care.”</p>
<p>“Then I'm gonna tell them...” House stops himself. Why does he have to attack Wilson? Can he not just enjoy the fondness in his voice and his look and leave it at that?</p>
<p>But Wilson apparently can't leave it. “Tell them what? That all my caring is heartless posturing to feed my own ego and my sense of self-worth? They wouldn't believe you.”</p>
<p>“As they shouldn't”, House says very seriously and Wilson's eyebrows raise in astonishment. “Don't look at me like that, I've complimented you before. Now shut up and eat!”</p>
<p>Wilson smiles and tilts his head a bit. House downs his drink in one go. This has not gone the way he planned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When they say goodbye for the night, Wilson gives him that little smile again, fond, but also a bit sad. Maybe he thinks that being in love with someone else has made House soft. If he only knew...</p>
<p>As soon as he is alone, House assesses the situation: This was a disaster. First, Wilson thought something was seriously wrong and then he probably came to conclusions that are totally obstructive to House's real goals. He has to face the fact that he does not know how to make a date with Wilson romantic. Maybe he needs more help than he previously thought. House grits his teeth. Time to make a phone call.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always thank you to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccroV/pseuds/AccroV">AccroV</a> for proofreading and commenting! You are such a help! &lt;3<br/><br/>Also, thanks to everyone who commented on chapter 1 and expressed interest in knowing how this story continues. I probably would not have written this without you. Thank you for being interested!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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